“Get down on Cooper?” she asked after we had swapped hellos.

“No. You playing him heavy?”

“Not as heavy as I’d like. We held off, thinking the odds would get better, but they went to hell.”

“Everybody in town seems to know Bush is going to dive,” I said. “I saw a hundred put on Cooper at four to one a few minutes ago.” I leaned past Rolff and put my mouth close to where the gray fur collar hid the girl’s ear, whispering: “The dive is off. Better copper your bets while there’s time.”

Her big bloodshot eyes went wide and dark with anxiety, greed, curiosity, suspicion.

“You mean it?” she asked huskily.

“Yeah.”

She chewed her reddened lips, frowned, asked: